


Need You So Much Closer

by viscouslover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Longing, M/M, Pining, Prayer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:46:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3236765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viscouslover/pseuds/viscouslover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean needs him. Cas knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need You So Much Closer

Dean is alone. Again.

He looks at his knuckles and tries to count the scars. Count how many times he put his hands against something with enough force to give a piece of himself away.

The scars are layered; a woven tapestry of regret and anger and idle mistakes. Some are deep and ugly. Others faint. Soft. Almost beautiful.

He can’t begin to remember where they all came from. This body was new barely six years ago. He’s destroyed another perfect thing. Now, even angels can’t heal him completely.

He wonders how many times his skin was remade before the damage became permanent. If he was rebuilt again today, would the scars remain? A reminder of his frailty. His cruelty. His mistakes.

He breathes deep and shuts his eyes against the spectre of pain. He’s marred, he knows that. He wears the proof. He tells himself that the scars are the evidence that he has healed. That it’s not allowed to hurt any more.

He lifts his hands and presses his palms to his closed eyes. Tries to soothe the phantom ache. He wonders how he can feel anything at all when he’s hollow inside.

Beside him, his phone rings. He picks it up; puts it to his ear.

"Hey, buddy."

"Dean."

His lips twitch with the thought of a smile.

“How d’ya always know?” he asks.

A silence stretches on the other end - devoid of any sound, save Dean’s own breath echoed back to him. Maybe angels don't need to breathe.

“You wanted to talk to me.” It’s not a question.

Dean swallows. He wasn’t praying. Wasn’t even thinking about Cas. Not directly.

“Dean-” Cas says his name again, lets it trail off his tongue, and it hurts.

He wonders how many times Cas has said his name. Wonders if anyone else says it quite the same way. If it ever means as much. Ever hurts this badly.

For a long moment, Dean can’t say anything more. He lets the quiet hang over them. It’s heavy. Difficult. There must have been ease between them in the past. Better times that he just can’t remember. They couldn’t have made it this far without them.

He looks at his hands. Bites at the nail beds.

“I never wanted this,” he says, “Never asked for this life.”

“I know,” Cas says.

“I’m doing what I can.”

“I know.” Because he always knows.

Dean lays back on his bed. Rolls onto his side so that his ear pins the phone to his pillow. Tucks his hands into his armpits.

“Is it always gonna feel this way, Cas?”

“I don’t know.” Cas is learning to lie. He always knows.

Dean stares at the place where a second nightstand used to sit. He placed it there, in a wild moment of hope. Removed it when he came to his senses. Hope is for better men than Dean.

He stares at the wall and lets his mind wander. Thinks about what might of been, if he’d been different, stronger, braver. He doesn’t say anything. Just breathes. He doesn’t need to wonder if Cas has hung up. He can feel that Cas is still on the line. When it comes to Cas, Dean knows.

“There’s still room for hope, Dean.” Cas’ voice is barely a whisper in his ear.

Dean shuts his eyes. Tries not to feel the tear that spills down his face.

“For what?” he asks.

“For you,” Cas lies. “For us.”

A bitter laugh chokes in Dean’s throat. “I don’t wanna do it alone anymore, man.”

“I know.”

Cas knows. Because he always knows.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The _longing_. Chuck help me.
> 
> I can be found on [tumblr](http://www.viscouslover.tumblr.com).


End file.
